While I was busy this morning, unbeknownst to me, two of the children got into mischief by playing with markers. They took our hardwood floor and the train table as their drawing board. By the time I discovered their deed, the floor and the train table was a huge collage of some sort. I was not thrilled with their choice of medium for such artwork. I was tired and a wee bit sick, and I dreaded the inevitable clean-up task. Even though I was extremely unhappy with the guilty, my oldest (4.5yo) came to the rescue. After I told him to get me some wet paper towels, he decided to take charge and clean the floor and the train table. He went back and forth between the sink and the mess to clean it up. He was such a great help and I was so proud. This is the moment where my mind goes, “Whose kid is this?” To my elation, he’s my kid! I think about my many days, weeks, and months wondering when this kid of mine will start contributing to this family in more tangible ways without me having to do most of the work. His help today was a glimpse of hope in parenting. I’m reminded of Galatians 6:9: “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” This verse, and moments like today’s highlight with my oldest, are a great help in persevering in whatever trials that come our way.